


It wasn't supposed to happen

by Morethancupcake



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 18:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3219572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morethancupcake/pseuds/Morethancupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It wasn't supposed to happen. Seeing. Wanting. Taking. It wasn't supposed to happen."</p>
<p>Connor falls in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It wasn't supposed to happen

It wasn't supposed to happen.

Seeing. Wanting. Taking.

It wasn't supposed to happen.

Needing the files was normal. Doing anything it takes was normal. Smiling when catching Oliver's eyes for the first time...

No. You can't love, you don't love, you won't love.

You ruin everything out of spite, you can't admit you're in love, while you're just a slave to those eyes. You can't, you don't, you won't. So you ruin it. And then you cry. Except no one can see your tears, because you're a winner, you smile and you kiss other boys. Who cares if you can't forget his tears, or the way he would laugh at you. Who cares about his pictures, and his voice, and the way you feel sleeping next to him. Because you stayed, and you slept, and you almost loved.

You can't love. Except you do. You do. You love him more than you ever loved anyone, and it makes you stop, it makes you think. It makes you doubt. 

It makes you beg.   
It makes you weak.

You think about forgetting him into others, you think about hurting him again, just to erase his gentle smile and the sounds of his moans.

I would do anything, you say, and you mean it. You were a God and he made ou a beggar, you would run this earth naked if it could mean holding his hand again. You cry. God, you cry. You cry in showers, you cry facing him at his door. You cry thinking he's in another's arms and you cry fucking faceless strangers. 

When he takes you in his arms again, you think you'll die from the tears, the want and the need. Gosh the need. You used to need the rush, the taste off blood. Now you need silence, and his breath against' your skin. You need the taste of chinese food on his couch, and brushing your teeth together before bed. You need all the little things, you need all the small bits he's ready to give.

Stop looking at me, he used to ask, smiling. Never stop, you beg him. I'm yours, I'm yours, please.

You sleep every night in his bed, and he pretends not to notice. You try to make him tea, and you kiss him whe he tries to like it. You are trying to forget, you are trying to forgive. Who cares about the fact you're not holding anyone else, when he sometimes avoid your eyes and doesn't believe you. You love him enough not to care.

He made you beg.  
He made you weak.

You tell him you love him, over and over. You whisper it against his skin, you moan it in his mouth in the morning, you even say it on the phone, and ignore the quiet laughters behind you.

It wasn't supposed to happen.


End file.
